Sharing with a dragon
by neverwakeasleepingdragon
Summary: When the returning 8th years return to Hogwarts, what will happen between Harry and Draco? Especially when Mcgonagall decides it's a good idea to encourage members of different houses to get along. Eventual slash. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Please R&R :) Will hopefully be updating every day!
1. Return to normality

"That's it, he's such a little troll! He's going to pay for this Neville, mark my words!" The tips of Ron's ears were turning red as he slammed his queen onto the chessboard.

"I highly doubt that Draco has stolen Neville's remembrall again Ronald. I think it's probable that he's got other things on his mind than reliving first year, don't you?"

The golden trio and Neville sat by the lake enjoying the last sun of the September evening. Neville and Ron were laying propped up by their elbows playing chess, Hermione was engaged in a book and Harry was leaning with his back to a large oak tree tossing a snitch between his palms, sleeves rolled up carelessly. The returning 8th year students had been permitted to wear their own clothes instead of uniform, since all of them were over 17 and legally adults. Most had opted for casual muggle dress, with a few notable Slytherin exceptions. Ron donned, as always, his Chudley Cannon jumper that matched his hair perfectly. He looked at his girlfriend with disgust.

"Draco. Draco! Since when has it been Draco? It's an awful name, even worse than Malfoy."

"He's not his father." She shivered. "The name Malfoy always makes me think of Lucius. You should try and stop being so judgmental now the war is over. There are no sides anymore."

"Have you forgotten 'Mione that this is Draco Malfoy? Ferret face, pureblood-loving, muggle-hating, thief! Oh and did I mention death eater? I don't even-"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, stopping Ron in his tracks. Somehow, unbelievable she had managed to tame his temper since they'd started dating. 'Whipped' Harry mouthed at Ron and grinned, receiving a middle finger in return. Sitting out here in the grass, with the sun setting in the distance made it feel almost as if it was third year again; that no war had happened that no one had died. Neville was patting the grass, his hand seeming to bounce off the sharp tips as he did so. If a stolen remembrall was the biggest of their worries, they were doing quite well, Harry thought.

Just last week they had returned to Hogwarts. Harry had missed it here. Due to a ministry project, the castle had been nearly entirely rebuilt and the traces of dark magic that remained were almost unnoticeable. All of Harry's year had been given the chance to resit the year and gain the qualifications they needed to gain jobs in the wizarding world. Not that half of them needed it of course. Hermione had been offered several jobs, the most surprising of which had been a journalist for the Daily Prophet working under the supervision of none other than Rita Skeeter. She had, of course, politely declined. Ron, Harry and Neville had been offered jobs as aurors but had all thought it better to wait a year. Coming back to Hogwarts had been a chance for them to take a break from the real world and become immersed in school life once again. Quidditch, detention, hell, even petty fights with Malfoy had become desirable to Harry. It had surprised him just how easily that Malfoy had adjusted back into Hogwarts. Even with a dark mark on his arm, he was still the Slytherin prince, still exactly how he was before the war. Harry had even heard some 6th year ravenclaws giggling to themselves the other day about how sexy the bad boy image was. It disgusted him that they thought that, the war still raw in his mind. Nonetheless, he was glad that Malfoy had settled in okay., and that confused him. Why should he care about him at all?

"I probably have just lost it, honestly it's no big deal. Besides what would he want with my remembrall? He has that little silver notebook that he writes everything in remember."

Neville turned pink, embarrassed at admitting he'd studied Malfoy's habits enough to know that he carried the book with him. Despite killing Nagini and making a name for himself as a hero, he was still terrified of the blonde and watched him cautiously whenever he was near.

The last slither of the sun was disappearing behind the lake, and it got suddenly dark. A splash of a giant tentacle in the water indicated that it was time to head back up to the castle. Upon reaching the castle they headed to the great hall just in time to catch the main course before it was replaced with bowls of treacle sponge. Ron eyed Malfoy suspiciously but looked away quickly when the boy in question sent a smirk his way. This only confirmed to Ron that he was guilty of stealing the glass ball.

As a group of Slytherins stood up to leave, professor McGonagall stood and tapped her glass.

"8th years, if you could remain behind afterwards please. There are a few arrangements I would like to discuss with you."

Harry ran his fingers along the table top impatiently whilst waiting for the younger years to leave the hall. He had really wanted to go flying after eating, it was something he hadn't done properly for months and was dying to get back into it. He hadn't told anyone this yet, not even Ron, but he had been in contact with a few professional teams and he thought he could make Seeker in at least one of them. It was just what he needed, he held no strong desire to be an auror. He had had quite enough dark magic for his lifetime.

The rest of the wizards departed and soon only the 8th years remained, scattered between the 4 tables. The aging professor cleared her throat and smiled kindly at the students in front of her.

"I would yet again like to profess how proud I am of you for returning to Hogwarts to complete your studies. Every single one of you." She looked at Malfoy as she said this. "I realise that it was not an easy choice for you to make. This castles many dark memories, for all of you, and we must not forget that. As you have no doubt noticed, your living arrangements are not ideal."

Harry agreed with this. Extra beds had been placed into the already full dormitories in the Gryffindor tower, and he had found himself rooming with 5th years that stared at him with awe constantly. He just found it disconcerting. In fact, one of them was plain creepy. Just two nights ago he had awoken to a face staring in between the curtains surrounded his bed, which quickly disappeared when Harry started. Definitely not ideal.

"We are a community at this school, and it would do you good not to forget that. The rivalry between houses has to stop here. For this reason, you will be rooming with members of different houses. And no, Mr Weasley, there isn't any room for discussion."

Ron looked angry, then proceeded to give Blaise Zabini his most evil stare as if doing so would mean that he wouldn't have to room with him.

"As I am not entirely unreasonable, I'll let you decide who it is you room with. The only conditions are, firstly that they are in a different house to you and secondly, as I'm sure you're aware, we will allow only same sex rooming." Daphne looked disappointed at this and sent Zacharias Smith a longing glance.

Professor McGonagall placed several keys on the teacher's table and put a quick charm on them to prevent the conditions of the rooming being broken.

"You'll find the rooms on the fourth floor, next to the large portrait of Merlin. I hope that this arrangement will help put our past behind us and help us work towards a more harmonious school community. Goodnight."

She turned to leave before pausing at the small side door.

"Oh and Mr Longbottom?" She added, "I think you might have lost this."

Hermione sent Ron a knowing look, as Professor McGonagall held out the remembrall in her cusped hand.


	2. Draco and Potter?

Draco scowled. Trust the old bat to come up with something like this. He'd only had two reasons for returning to Hogwarts. The first, and he was ashamed to admit it, was for protection. Nowhere was safe for him anymore; Madam Malkin's, the three broomsticks, even Gringotts. Everywhere he went he received glares and profanities. That was okay, he could deal with that – he was hardened by the war and it took more than a few petty whispers to hurt him. What he wasn't prepared to deal with on a daily basis however were the curses that were sent his way. Dark curses, curses he wasn't even sure how people on the 'light' side knew. Then again, he had reasoned, Severus had been on the light side and he knew from experience that sectumsempra wasn't exactly child's play. Snape. He missed the man, and it hurt to think about him. He quickly shoved all thoughts of him out of his mind, he wasn't ready to deal with the loss yet.

The second reason was to make friends. He had realized that he'd only ever had one proper friend before, and that was Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle had never counted; he only allowed them to tag along with him because his father has said they would be good acquaintances. At the time Draco hadn't know what that meant, but now he saw what his father had wanted. It was laughable , Goyle was possibly the worse acquaintance in the world now he was locked up in Azkaban. And Crabbe… well Crabbe was dead and Draco was surprised that he didn't even miss him. Not like he missed Sev. He was sick of politics! Sick of appeasing people, sick of worshipping his father. He wanted a real life, one with friends. A life where he could be himself. He'd forgotten the last time he had laughed, really laughed. And he'd been afraid for so long.

So now that McGonagall had come up with this room sharing idea, he was less than happy. It didn't come into his reasons for being here at all! None of the other houses wanted to be friends with him, he was restricted to Slytherin. Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Theo. He was actually getting on with them all well, and had made fast friends with Blaise already. Pansy of course was there for him like she had been all summer. Daphne was a shameless slut but a good laugh, and Theo was tolerable if a little antisocial. He felt like he was really settling in. He felt for the first time like he belonged somewhere, even if most of the lower years were scared of him and moved out of the way as he walked down the corridor. This suited him just fine. It's better that they were scared of him than the other way round.

He looked around the room with a calculating expression on his face. His eyes involuntary narrowed when they fell on Ron. The weasel had acted like it was a personal insult that Draco had been allowed to come back to Hogwarts. Spluttering and shouting the way he had when Draco walked into the welcoming feast. It was embarrassing really.

"Dray, who you thinking of?" Pansy asked, slipping her arm through his. "I was thinking Granger, imagine all the work she could help me with! We've been talking a bit in arithmancy and she's actually not bad. Not to mention it would annoy Weasley that his girlfriend was fratenising with Slytherins!"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that? We're not four anymore. " He rolled his eyes as his said it, but kindly. "You're always the perfect Slytherin, thinking of what you can get out of an arrangement."

Pansy just smiled happily. "And don't tell me you're not! So who you thinking of? Please tell me it's not a Hufflepuff? Ew!"

Draco just looked at her. As if he was going to room with a Hufflepuff, he did have standards. But when he looked around he soon saw that at this rate he wouldn't have much choice in his dorm mate. Everyone seemed to be pairing off. Finch – Fletchley was threw a key across to room to be caught by Dean Thomas and the two happily wandered off, talking about some muggle dancing competition. At least Draco thought that football was a type of dance, like the Yule ball. Seamus had paired up with Ernie Macmillan and they were looking at the keys trying to identify which led to the biggest room. Longbottom was talking with some Hufflepuff.

Pansy saw this too and ran off to pull Granger away from her boyfriend. Everyone was pairing off and Draco saw with horror that only the Weasley, a Hufflepuff and Potter were left, Potter seemingly oblivious to the fact that everyone else was pairing off. The Hufflepuff was heading towards Potter, which would leave Draco rooming with Weasley. That was just unthinkable. Without thinking, Draco opened his mouth.

"Hey Potter, are you going to get the key or am I going to be waiting here all day?"

Ron blanched and looked at him like he was crazy. Potter didn't look much better.

"Looks like it's you and I then Ron." The Hufflepuff said and cast a quick accio, the key landing in his hand.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Draco, but then realised that since she was pairing with Pansy she couldn't really claim to be shocked. In fact, she looked rather happy with her arrangement. Pansy was telling her about a spell that she'd invented to keep curly hair straight all day long as they headed out of the great hall together.

"We can't let this happen! He's going to kill you in your sleep Harry! Mark my words."

Draco sneered at Ron. "You really think I'd be so stupid Weasley, as to kill Potter in his sleep when I was the only suspect. Don't insult my intelligence."

Ron didn't know what to say so pulled a face that made his features morph into a turnip. "Death eater scum," he muttered to Harry. "We'll go talk to McGonagall and explain the situation if you want mate,"

"No, it's fine Ron. Leave it, I've done worse things than room with Malfoy. I'll manage." Ron didn't look convinced and raised his eyebrows.

"Rather you than me mate, you're mental. See you tomorrow… if you're alive that is."

Ron left scowling as Harry went to collect a key off the table. Potter, Draco noticed, didn't look as angry at the situation as he'd expected him to. Not that Potter should be angry, he thought, rooming with me is an honour after all. He didn't know how this rooming situation would go, but he suspected that he was far better off with Potter than his freckle faced friend. He turned and left the room knowing that Potter would follow. Sure enough, he heard footsteps in the corridor behind him. So predictable Potter.


	3. Seeker's game?

"Well isn't this…homely," Draco said as he entered their new bedroom, closely followed by Harry. The room was small, the same size as the bedroom Harry had finally been given in Privet Drive. Draco didn't mind, he wouldn't be spending much time here anyway, especially considering who his roommate was.

"It'll do," Harry shrugged, settling onto one of the beds and kicking his shoes off. "So tell me Malfoy, how come you decided to room with me, your arch enemy?"

Draco scoffed. "You think you're my arch enemy? I'm fairly sure that the Dark Lord beat you to that a couple of years ago." Harry raised his eyebrows. He hadn't realised that Malfoy thought like that. He'd always imagined that the whole family had worshipped Voldemort; it was hard to picture Malfoy hating him.

"Don't look so surprised Potter? You think I liked the mad man? He was evil and I'm not stupid. The manor still smells like him to me." He shuddered. "But let's not talk about the war." Draco paced the small room, unaware of Harry's eyes following him as he did so. He tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently as he walked. He didn't know why he'd decided to room with Potter. People were bound to be talking. Weasley was probably talking to McGonagall now trying to convince her that he wanted to kill Potter, that he was still working for the 'dark' side. Stupid Weasley.

Draco thought back to the time when he'd offered his hand in friendship to Harry, who back then was a scrawny little boy in baggy muggle clothing. How much had changed since then? It hurt Draco to think of what could have been. Everything would have been so different if Harry had only taken his hand that year instead of the Weasel's. Maybe Draco would have shared in all the glory Potter was now receiving, his fan club never more than a few steps behind him. Maybe it would have been his face plastered on the front of the papers with Harry instead of Weasley's. Maybe he would actually have friends other than Pansy. But his path had been chosen for him, his father had made sure of that. Lucius has failed to pick the winning side and now Draco was suffering for it. It wasn't fair. Draco kicked the bed that Harry was sitting on. Harry's yelp snapped him out of his reverie. He'd completely forgotten that he was in the same room as the boy he'd been thinking about.

"What was that for Malfoy? You want to share a room with me, now you attack my bed? Great friend making technique!" Draco lifted his head slightly and faced the Gryffindor expecting to see anger, but Harry was laughing.

"You think I wanted to share a room with you? I didn't exactly have much choice. It was either you, Weasley or that Hufflepuff. You were the most tolerable of them all."

Harry grinned which just infuriated Draco. Why did he think this situation was funny?

"Whatever Potter, I'm going."

"Going where?" Harry looked at him curiously, and Draco felt a sudden urge to curse the boy. It wasn't right that they were having a civil conversation; they should be cursing each other. This was the first time he'd spoken to Potter, he noted, and not heard a hint of malice in the other boys voice. It was disconcerting to say the least.

"Out. And since when did I have to share my business with you Potty?

"Potty," Harry mulled the word over in his mouth. "Potty. Your insults still haven't improved, that one's definitely been stolen from Peeves."

It was like Potter was deliberately trying to annoy him. Why didn't he hate him? This whole situation was completely irrational. They had been on different sides in the war. Draco's relatives had killed Potter's friends, so why was Potter acting almost as if they were friends? It was weird and Draco didn't like it. He wanted friends, yes, but Harry Potter? No, it was too late for them to be friends. It was too late the moment his offer had been rejected on the train. The insult still stung.

"As a matter of fact, I'm going out too." Harry said, flipping his legs over the side of the bed and began searching in his trunk which had been placed in the room, probably by house-elves, the moment that he'd picked up the key. He looked up at Draco, his green eyes shining beneath his messy jet of hair and smiled.

"Well don't expect me to ask where you're going, unlike you I have better things to worry about than where my 'arch enemy' is hanging out."

"Guess I'll see you later then? Unless you wanna come play a quick Seeker's game? It's not every day I get the chance to play against the second best seeker in school." Harry winked.

Wait, did he just wink? Was Potter flirting with him, Draco Malfoy? He decided that he didn't want to find out.

"As wonderful as that sounds, I have better things to do. I was actually thinking of cleaning out my cauldron, polishing all the trophies in the third floor cabinets, visiting the house-elves…"

Harry just shrugged and pulled on his seeking gloves, smiled at Draco, and left the room. As he left he brushed his shoulder against the blonde's, causing Draco to jump back. This situation was just too weird.


	4. Oh Merlin

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It had been a long time since Hermione had been rendered speechless. Harry definitely hadn't expected Hermione to be as shocked as she was. Somehow he'd figured that she would have worked it out months ago.

"Are you feeling okay Harry? Are you sure he hasn't put a curse on you or something? This is just so…unexpected!"

Harry blushed. He'd just confided in Hermione about his crush on Draco. No not crush, he was in love with the boy. With Draco it was impossible to do anything by halves. He'd hated him more than he hated anybody for the first 5 years they'd known each other. Then suddenly, one day in sixth year that had all changed. His feelings had shifted quicker than he thought possible, he had fallen further than he thought he ever would.

"Harry, I didn't even know you were gay? How could you have been harboring this secret crush for two years and not tell me? How could I not have known?" Her eyebrows furrowed leaving small wrinkles outlining her eyes.

"I'm not gay! Well at least I don't think I am…it's just him 'Mione. It's just Draco."

Harry thought it was the opportune time to tell Hermione. He'd hidden his feelings throughout the entirety of sixth year and it hadn't been appropriate to tell her when they were camping out in seventh, hiding from Draco's own family. Since she had confessed that she didn't think Draco was that bad, Harry had plucked up the courage to tell her. They were sitting in an empty classroom on the second floor. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

"Do you think he feels the same way? He's always been hard to read." She asked, causing Harry to laugh humorlessly. The idea of Draco Malfoy liking him, Harry Potter, was absurd. The idea of Draco Malfoy being gay was simply impossible. He was a pureblood, he had to carry on the Malfoy line. Even Harry knew that. Sure, Malfoy had been obsessed with him too – probably since first year when Harry had rejected his hand, but the obsession was one of hatred and maybe jealousy. Of that he was sure.

"Maybe you could try making friends with him, since you're sharing a room now? He clearly doesn't hate you anymore if he wanted to room with you."

"He still hates me, just less than he hates Ron." Harry sighed. "And there's the whole Ginny situation. For some reason she still thinks we're together even though I've told her I'm not ready."

"You saved his life, he doesn't hate you. He's just too proud to admit that you two could get along." She smiled with sympathy. "I know it's hard, but it isn't really fair to lead Ginny on like this. What would Ron say if he knew?"

Harry scowled. He expected Hermione to be on his side in all of this. It wasn't his fault that Ginny was obsessed with him! Besides, most of the reason she liked him, Harry was willing to bet, was because he was the 'chosen one'. That was why she first became obsessed with him after all. And that was the exact reason Draco hated him. Because he was the chosen one. It just wasn't fair, Harry thought for the 50th time that day. He'd saved the wizarding world, was it too much to ask that he got what he actually wanted for once?

"I know Hermione. I'll talk to her; I just don't know what to say. I don't want anyone else knowing that I'm, you know…"

"Gay? You can't be afraid to say the word Harry. Besides, the wizarding world doesn't have the same prejudices as the muggle one. Dumbledore was openly gay after all."

Harry's jaw dropped open, he couldn't help it. Hermione laughed, "Oh Harry, don't tell me you didn't know? You really are more clueless than I thought!"

He smiled sheepishly.

"But I'm not gay! I don't like other boys like Malfoy. But I'm still scared I don't think he'd take it too well. He's always been a bit weird around that gay uncle of his…"

"Arnold? Yes, I've noticed that too. He's an idiot, he really is." For once in her life, Hermione didn't know what to suggest. When Harry had dragged her into the room this morning whispering something about Malfoy she had rolled her eyes, expecting Harry to voice his suspicions about Malfoy's activities or even just complain about the room situation. She'd got off quite well with Pansy as her roommate, she was surprisingly intelligent and hadn't mention Hermione's blood status once. Now she was stumped. She wasn't exactly a dating expert herself; she'd only dated Viktor and now Ron. Whatever it was that Ron and her had, she wasn't quite sure. She'd expected Ron to jump at the chance to be her boyfriend after the kiss in the chamber of secrets, but he hadn't. They never had any time alone together, yet Ron thought that constituted as a relationship. That was something else she'd have to try and talk to him about, in addition to his homophobia.

"But what do I do? How do I flirt with him when he doesn't even spare me a second glance?" The desperation in Harry's voice shocked Hermione. She had never seen him like this about anyone, ever. It was amazing he'd managed to hide it for so long really. Hermione once again thought he'd been cursed, or maybe slipped a love potion as a cruel prank. She thought back to the previous two years for any evidence that Harry was interested in Draco like _that. _Sure, Harry had been obsessed with him all of sixth year. Stalking him both in person and the Marauder's map wasn't exactly normal, but he'd had good reason to, she justified. Draco had been up to something. Throughout seventh year Harry had barely mentioned the boy, they'd only seen his a handful of times. Harry had pulled Draco out of the fire. That didn't mean anything though, she justified to herself, Harry had a hero complex and couldn't just leave Draco there to die. That would go behind all of his morals. _But _a voice in her head whispered _he saved Draco over Crabbe. _And that didn't make any sense, Crabbe was more innocent than Draco by far.

She thought about the summer after the war, where Draco had been under ministry custody until his trial. Yet, mysteriously, there had been no sentence for Draco that she was aware of. The Prophet had hushed it up, only Narcissa's and Lucius's sentences had been listed along with several other death eaters'. And now Draco was back at Hogwarts, acting as if nothing had happened. She'd thought it odd at the time, but now it made sense. Harry had suspiciously been absent from the Burrow the day of the trial. Ron had assumed that Harry had been to laugh at Draco, but that was wrong, all wrong. Oh Merlin, Harry really did like Draco!

"Harry, did you by any chance have anything to do with Draco's trial?" Harry looked down at his feet. He had of course.

"I had to 'Mione! I had to. I couldn't let him go to Azkaban! Imagine what it would be like in there for him, he'd be alone apart from the dementors. He wouldn't cope well, he's so delicate…they'd have hurt him!"

Hermione's feature softened as she leant over to give her friend a hug. She didn't know what Harry had done to acquit Draco from his guilt, but it had worked. She shook her head and her hair fell over Harry's shoulders. Harry Potter never made things easy for himself.


	5. All he wanted

Harry spent the whole day away from his room. He wanted to spend as little time as possible with Malfoy. He knew that he was still hated by him and every mean jab and insult hurt Harry, though he didn't like to admit it. What he would have brushed off as a petty comment a few years ago hurt him deeply. Even when Malfoy mocked his messy hair, Harry didn't get angry, just paranoid. He'd tried out loads of spells to neaten it yet Malfoy hadn't noticed.

It was at midnight, the curfew for 8th years, that Harry returned to his room. He opened the door quietly so as not to wake Malfoy, the night before he'd returned after playing quidditch and found him asleep, his platinum hair spilling onto the pillow encircling his face like a halo. He had allowed himself to stare for a few minutes before curing up in bed, ashamed that he'd been spying on his sleeping movement. The room was dark and Harry saw Malfoy's shape in the bed. As Harry closed the door, Malfoy sat up suddenly.

"Potter! Why are you avoiding me?" the familiar scowl appeared on Draco's face. Harry thought it was adorable, but rearranged his own features into a scowl to mirror the one directed at him. He tried to stop the warm bubble of hope appearing in his chest at the thought that Draco even cared what he did.

"Waiting up for me Malfoy?" he laughed, trying to make it viscous but not succeeding. The hope leaked into his voice, and he hoped that Malfoy hadn't realised. Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled themselves into a pout. Harry wanted to run over and squeeze him hard. Instead, he walked over to his bed and stripped his shirt off, trying to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. He failed to notice Malfoy's bottom lip drop open slightly as his tanned stomach was exposed.

"Well yes as a matter of fact Potter, you're being incredibly rude. Where have you been all day?"

Harry decided not to tell him that all he'd been doing was trying to distract himself from fantasising about what he wanted to do to him now they were all alone in this room, with nothing to stop them. Nothing to stop them apart from the fact that they were supposed to hate each other and Malfoy wasn't gay. Harry had tried to convince himself that neither of these were valid reasons not to confess his feelings. He had to check himself. There was a difference between Gryffindor bravery and sheer stupidity, he decided, and telling Malfoy he loved him was definitely the latter.

Frustrated that Harry hadn't responded, Malfoy sprang out of bed and pulled himself up to Harry's height, squaring up to him, their chests so close that they touched. Harry gulped at the closeness of it, and how easy it would be for him to reach out and stroke the face in front of him. He almost did, his hand began to move involuntarily, when the blonde scowled and moved away giving Harry an excellent view of his body.

The raven haired boy couldn't help but laugh. "You have your initials embroidered into your pyjamas?" he asked, not at all surprised that they were silk. Malfoy just looked confused.

"Of course, why would I have someone else's?" The eyebrows furrowed again.

Harry realised he was being serious; that he thought it was normal to have DM stitched onto the pockets of silk pyjamas. He laughed again and shook his head, trying not to think about how attractive Malfoy looked in his pyjamas. He started walking back towards his bed and climbed in, his eyes still on Harry. Harry continued getting changed; slightly embarrassed that Malfoy was still watching him. He climbed into his own bed in just his boxers, thankful that he'd managed to stay soft as Malfoy pressed his chest against his. He took his glasses off and placed them on the bedside table, which explained why he didn't see Malfoy get out of his own bed and jump on the end of his. It reminded him of Ron on Christmas; except for the fact that Ron usually grinned and Malfoy was wearing his omnipresent scowl.

"So where have you been all day?" He asked, looking down at his hands.

"What happened to you having better things to do than worry about what your 'arch-enemy' was doing, eh Malfoy?" Harry was flattered that he was asking, but couldn't help but feel slightly suspicious. It _was_ suspicious; Draco was acting entirely suspicious. Why was he trying to talk to Harry when he'd so adamantly ignored him yesterday?

"I'm sorry okay!" Malfoy spat, suddenly angry. His hands formed fists and Harry's blanket twisted beneath them. "I'm sorry Potter! For everything. For the war, for being a prick to you, for letting the death eaters into the school… I'm sorry."

Harry watched as Draco's mask crumbled. His composure completely destroyed; it was the first time he'd ever been apologized to by him. Draco keeled over and clutched his stomach sobbing as if he forgot that he was sat on the edge of Harry's bed. Tears rolled down the pale cheeks and splattered the sheets, expanding into dull fireworks as they sank in.

Harry didn't know what to do; it hurt him more than he thought it would to see Draco like this. An intense ache filled his heart and he felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. He wanted nothing more than to hold the bawling man but didn't want to scare him away. He shuffled towards him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, feeling the boy tense at his touch and stop his sobbing. Harry almost pulled his hand away, but as he did he felt Draco relax into him. Plucking up the courage he was famous for, Harry gently move Draco into a lying position and placed a pillow under his head. He fell asleep with the boy in his arms, and he never wanted to let go. Draco was all he wanted.


	6. A confession in potions

"You what? Oh Dray this is just TOO good to be true! How did you manage that?" Pansy squealed as she wiped the tears from her face. As her answer she received a death glare from Draco and a smirk from Blaise. Draco had just told them about the embarrassing incident last night. He'd woken up early and, too embarrassed to linger in the room to see Potter, he'd carefully slipped from under the sleeping boy's arm and dressed. He was beyond mortified. Not only had Potter witnessed him crying, he'd also felt the need to hold him as he fell asleep. Draco didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all himself, that he had enjoyed the comfort that Potter's heavy arm had brought.

"It's probably a good thing you apologised," Blaise mused, flexing his long hands out in front of his body. "It might make sharing a room with him slightly more tolerable if you're not trying to curse each other constantly." Draco had to admit that Blaise did have a point, but for the two nights that they had been sharing there had been no hexing, no cursing, no nastiness. Well, limited nastiness. Draco buried his head in his hands, trying to block out his friend's laughter at his expense. Blaise was wrong; it was going to be completely intolerable seeing Potter later. He'd let himself appear so weak in front of him; it was humiliating. And perfect Potter was acting weirdly too. What was with the winking and flirting and most strangely the hugging last night? Draco was fairly sure that if the roles had been reversed, and Potter had been sat at the foot of his bed begging for forgiveness, that he'd have come up with a cruel taunt and told him in no uncertain terms to go to his own side of the room. That was what he liked to think anyway. No one else had to know how desperate he still was for Potter's friendship, especially not Potter. He would do everything in his power to make sure they stayed enemies. Sure, last night had been a momentary lapse of judgment, but he'd perfected his mask over the past few years and had no problem erecting it. He did it right now.

"I assure you Blaise that nothing has changed between Potter and I, we still hate each other," Draco drawled, narrowing his eyes at the man in question across the potions classroom. As much as he hated to admit it, Potter looked quite cute. No, not cute Draco scolded himself, perplexed. Yes that was the word: perplexed. Potter looked perplexed as he struggled to chop up the root in front of him. The way he kept running his hand through his hair was anything but attractive, and Draco hated the way he kept twiddling his wand in his strong hands. He did.

Potter kept casting glances in Draco's direction. Draco supposed that they were his attempt at subtle but they were anything but. At one point he thought he'd heard Weasley say "Stop staring at the git," but he couldn't be sure. It was always hard for Draco to comprehend the Weasley said with his mumbling voice and common accent. Potter's green eyes rose and met his own, and Draco could have sworn he'd seen the Gryffindor blush. Then his mouth was moving, and Draco could form the words 'are you okay'. He scowled and looked away, missing the crestfallen look appear on Harry's face.

"Well from the way he's staring at you now I wouldn't be so sure of it," Pansy cackled and Blaise started to laugh too. Draco scowled at them.

"Pass me the fluxweed will you?" he demanded, and snatched it out of Blaise's hand, causing the pair to laugh even harder. Draco only ever got into tantrums like this over Potter. Even now they were eighteen, Potter wound him up more than anyone, and they found it hilarious.

"You say you hate him now, but it's only a matter of time before you make a move on him Draco. Well, judging from past experience as your roommate for seven years," Blaise winked, causing Draco's cheeks to flush.

"Shut up," he hissed, "I hardly made a move on you! Besides, we had other roommates too. I hardly made a move on Crabbe or Goyle,"

"So you're insinuating you did on Nott?" Pansy cackled, causing several heads to turn in her direction. Blaise waited until the classes' attention was back on their potions before he continued the conversation.

"Well what do you consider making a move then, if trying to kiss me wasn't?" Draco clenched his jaw, wanting to hit something but not wanting to attract any more attention. He really didn't need reminding of that embarrassing moment. Besides, he could barely be accountable. He had been slipped a lust potion by Pansy after all. He could feel Potter's eyes on him again and it was making him uncomfortable.

"A momentary lapse of judgment, obviously-"

"So just like last night then?" Pansy teased.

"Shut up Pansy, or I can guarantee I won't be dropping any hints for you with any of my pureblood friends and then you'll be forced to marry Goyle by your father," Draco threatened, although they both knew that he wasn't serious. He'd do anything for his best friend. They also knew that there was no way on Earth that she'd consent to marrying Goyle. Unaffected by the threat she smiled and continued work on her potion.

"All I'm saying Draco is that I wouldn't be surprised if you were fucking him by the end of the week." She winked and started stirring her potion slowly. It was looking a weird brown colour, when it should have been lilac, but she either hadn't noticed or didn't care. Potions had never been her strength. Blaise grinned as he watched Draco's mouth fall open.

"And why on Earth would I want to fuck… fuck that?" He asked, casting a quick glance at the boy behind him who was biting his lip in concentration as he lifted a drop of newt blood with his wand and slowly dragged it through the air and let it drop into his cauldron. A satisfying hiss was made as Harry focused his efforts on the next drop. "He's definitely not attractive enough for a Malfoy," he huffed, folding his arms across his chest. His own potion was perfectly made and was a shimmering gold colour.

"In that case, I'll have him then," Blaise said, eyeing up the bespectacled boy from across the table. Draco saw red.

"Stop leering at him Zabini, unless you want cursing," Malfoy threatened, whipping his wand out of his pocket. Pansy and Blaise exchanged a look, and Pansy smiled holding out her palm. Blaise pulled a small bag from out of his back pocket and placed it in her stretched out hand with a clinking sound, ignoring Malfoy's empty threat.

"What was that for?" He furrowed his brows, utterly confused.

"We had a little bet going on," Pansy said with a very Malfoyesque smirk. "Blaise said you wouldn't last the day without getting jealous and revealing your feelings for Potter. I said you wouldn't last the lesson."

Malfoy buried his head in his hands once again. Potter confused him, but he definitely didn't fancy the man! No matter how tanned his skin, or how toned his muscles. No matter how defined his cheekbones or how bright his eyes. No matter how much he wanted to run his hands through the messy hair, he did not fancy Potter. He looked at his friend's twin smiles and then over at Potter, who was looking flushed and a bit bewildered at the black smoke emerging from his cauldron. Who was he kidding? He wanted Potter, and he wanted him now.


	7. Charmed in Charms

**The next chapter is up! Please read and review, I've tried something a bit new with this chapter. It's told from Ron's point of view, but don't worry – the next chapters will be back to Harry/Draco!**

HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM-HPDM

"I mean, mate come off it! Don't you see his pointy face enough as it is now you're sharing a room? You don't need to stare at him in class too, I don't know what's gotten into you," Ron said, spitting out small pieces of pastry. He hadn't even waited until they were out of the potions classroom to begin munching on the pasty that he had stashed in his bad.

"Leave it Ronald," Hermione snapped. She was angry with Ron for being so insensitive to her. She'd asked if he wanted to spend some time with her alone last night, but he'd insisted on going to play quidditch. When she'd asked what he was doing tonight, he'd shrugged and carried on a conversation with Harry. In addition to this she was quick to defend Harry's crush on Malfoy, and she was mad at him for adding the shredded ginger too quickly and ruining their potion. Ron, oblivious to this shoved the pasty in her face.

"Want some?" He asked, reaching in his bag "I have more if you want to finish this one." She glared at him in annoyance and disgust and stormed off down the corridor, passing the Slytherins on her way. Pansy, seeing her new friend looking upset, ran after the bushy hair, casting a glare in Ron's direction.

"See, she's almost as bad as you. Fratenising with the Slytherins, the worlds gone mad!" Ron chuckled, opening the second pasty. "But in all serious Harry, you're not actually going to make friends with the twat are you? You haven't forgotten what he's like?"

Ron was annoyed that things weren't the way they always had been. He hated change. He liked the rivalry between Malfoy and the Gryffindors, he liked rooming with Harry and Neville and Dean and Seamus. The new guy, Jeremy Clarke, was okay but no substitute for his friend. He didn't like quidditch and was obsessed with astronomy. Ron had no idea what to talk to him about. He was very uneasy about the blossoming friendship between Pansy and his girlfriend. Parkinson had tried to turn Harry over to Voldemort after all. Sure, she had apologised at the beginning of summer, but for Ron that wasn't enough. He didn't want her corrupting Hermione's mind or even worse, cursing her in her sleep. He didn't believe the claims that Hermione actually liked the girl, he thought she was only saying that she did so that Ron would be nicer. But Ron had decided he wasn't going to be nicer, he hated this.

"Ron, the war is over. I feel sorry for Malfoy, he had an even harder time in it than us-" Harry was interrupted by Ron's harsh laugh.

"You have got to be kidding me! He hasn't had anything compared to us. We had to search for horcruxes, we had to try and kill Voldemort! What did he do? He was on their bloody side! He's a death eater!"

Malfoy turned around and glowered at Ron, obviously aware that he was the topic of conversation. His gaze met Harry's for a moment and the look softened, before his iron glare returned. He stormed off with Blaise at his heels.

"You're a twat, do you know that Ron?" Harry shouted, and ran after the blonde, leaving Ron's cheeks matching the colour of his hair.

Ron looked around, embarrassed that both of his best friend's had just ran away from him. He caught eyes with Neville who just shrugged and walked on quickly, obviously not wanting to get caught up in a fight between the golden trio, especially on the opposite side to Harry and Hermione. Ron's next class was charms, which he shared with both Harry and Hermione. He arrived late and found that they were sat on a five-man desk with none other than Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson. Fuming he sat behind them and slammed his books down on the desk to attract their attention. None of them turned around apart for Parkinson, who glared at him and linked her arm through Hermione's, causing Ron to choke. What made her think that she could touch his girlfriend? It was appalling, he needed to talk some sense into his friends, they were crazy! He didn't listen to the anything Flitwick said that lesson; he instead focused his efforts on trying to kill Malfoy. He reckoned that if he stared hard enough at the back of the blonde' head that he could burn holes into it.

Malfoy was sat next to Harry, which infuriated Ron even more. Why couldn't his friends see that the Slytherins were only using them to clear the dirt from their names? He wondered if Harry and Hermione even knew the truth about them. That Malfoy was a shirt lifter. His dad had heard it at the ministry and Ron had eavesdropped on a conversation between his parents when he heard Malfoy's name. Harry was sharing a room with the guy, who was probably peeking at him when he got undressed. Ron shuddered. He decided he would tell Harry the truth the next time they were alone. He had to protect his friend. And Zabini? Well, everyone knew about his mother, the murderous slut. But Ron was willing to bet that Zabini had a part to play in that too, he was probably the one who helped dispose of the bodies which had all mysteriously disappeared. Parkinson didn't need explaining, she had tried to turn Harry over to Voldemort! In Ron's opinion she deserved to rot in Azkaban.

Ron watched as Malfoy edged closer to Harry and whispered something in his ear. Harry burst out laughing and tried to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his cloak. Professor Flitwick turned to look at him and Harry began coughing. Ron couldn't work out if the laughter had set him off or if he was just doing it to cover up his laughter. Either way, he didn't like the smirk on Malfoy's face. He felt like he was missing out on a private joke between the two of them and it made him want to curse Malfoy even more. He was making a move on Harry, and harry oblivious as ever thought he was just being friendly. He scoffed, since when was Malfoy ever friendly? Surely even Harry could see that he was acting suspiciously. To Ron's knowledge they hadn't even spoken a nice word to each other until after the potions lesson. It was very odd.

He felt jealousy bubbling up inside him as he saw Hermione point her wand at Blaise's parchment and mutter a spelling correction charm. She wasn't supposed to help anyone but him and Harry, especially not a Slytherin. His jealousy became even fiercer when he saw Blaise wink at her and thank her. He overheard snippets of their conversation.

"That's no problem at all Zabini, it would be silly to messy up an excellent essay because of a few spelling mistakes," She smiled. Ron scowled at the fact she'd called his essay excellent. She'd never called any of his work excellent; surely Zabini wasn't that much better than him? He looked down at his own parchment that was composed a couple of ink blotches and a scribbled picture of Malfoy being attacked by a troll. He shrugged; he had more important things to focus on this lesson than on charms.

"Please Hermione, call me Blaise," the cat like face twisted into a smile which made Ron feel queasy. It obviously didn't have the same affect on Hermione though since she smiled and blinked a few times, shyly. "I feel that we're almost friends from the way Pansy speaks about you, her grades have shot up in the past two days,"

Pansy, who was sat at the other side of Hermione sent a spell his way causing him to yelp in pain. Hermione's expression turned to one of horror until she saw Blaise chuckling. "Another spell I made up," Pansy explained. "Nothing more than a quick slap on the arm, but it get's his attention." Hermione laughed, sending a smile Pansy's way and shaking her head.

"Okay then _Blaise,_ it would be a pleasure to be your friend," Hermione answered, and as hard as Ron tried he could not detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She seemed genuinely pleased that the Slytherins wanted to be her friend. Flitwick dismissed class and Ron grabbed his stuff, shoved it hastily into his bag, and stood up to leave. He stormed out of the classroom as quickly as he could. Despite the speed of his departure, he couldn't fail to notice the way that Malfoy's hand skimmed Harry's and lingered there, as he reached to grab his quill.


End file.
